


Don't try to fix me.

by BrightestOfCrayons



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Drama & Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28100811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightestOfCrayons/pseuds/BrightestOfCrayons
Summary: Veuve Clicquot was content working for Joja, as it was a lot cushier and less demeaning than her previous job as a stripper. It didn't mean she gave up the pole, as it was a great way to stay in shape, but she should have thrown the damn thing out. It just took one nosy co-worker to see it in her closet during a small house party, and she was fired within twenty-four hours. Unwilling to go back to stripping for a living, and knowing it was her last resort, Veuve opens the letter her grandfather left her.To say she was displeased with what she found would be an understatement..."Oh great, a deed to a farm out in the middle of bum f*CK nowhere!"(Updates at random/Informal writing style is how I do! Enjoy~)
Relationships: Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Kudos: 5





	Don't try to fix me.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't get me wrong, I love OC's who are these super lovely people who just want to help everyone and everything wrong with the world just because it's the right thing to do...BUT, you will not find any of those noble traits in Veuve Clicquot. I mean, sure, she'll probably end up helping the community but for her own selfish revenge driven reasons that might force her to murder Morris. MIGHT. Who knows?
> 
> And yes, Veuve Clicquot is a brand of champagne.
> 
> I will often go back a re-word paragraphs for a better visual or just make corrections if I see something eye brow raising.

Between every few steps made towards the shit hole that was her dead Grandfather's Cabin, Veuve had to do a sort of body shimmy and or wriggle the heels of her shoes to keep them from sinking into the rich soils of the miles of outstretched farmland without losing expensive footwear in her wake. It made her Irate, and even more so that the damp mud from a heavy downpour of rain the day prior was slowly churning a filthy clay film around the wheels of her luggage. All being dragged out of the U-haul Self-Storage truck she rented earlier that week by Lewis, Robin, and herself with little care. She was grateful for their help, regardless of how they handled her luggage, as she understood it couldn't be helped due to how difficult it was to haul Anything around on slippery dirt. The warm welcome she'd received from them both had more than made up for how they treated her belongings, well, it would have if Robin hadn't started to make subtle remarks at the living state of her home when she finally got to see it for the first time in ten long years. 

If Veuve wasn't such an emotionally hardened witch, the state of the main Cabin would have brought a tear to her eye. 

Even in its ruin, though, she had to admit it was still a beautiful sight to behold, despite how rustic Robin emphasized it was in a subtle attempt at sarcasm when Lewis complimented it sincerely with the word 'rustic.' Ignoring the two for a moment, she looked at a recently repaired glass window. From it, a memory stirred, followed by a sudden wistfulness. It was one of her early days here as a child. She envisioned dear Grandfather's silhouette passing by it, where he'd open the front door to welcome her back gingerly with phantom smells of whatever baked goods Grandmother was cooking wafting out to further entice her inside. Before and after boarding school, she never did skip a visit to this place during the Holidays or short-term vacations. 

Stale air welcomed her now, vast overgrowth, a dirty old man who dared even try acting grandfatherly towards her upon welcome, and a butch lesbian who Veuve felt had control over nothing but the style of her over colored hair in life.

But that was neither here nor there. The property had a spacious guest barn, including two stalls with a small run-out and tack room that caved in at some point and needed to be demolished but eventually renewed, Lewis had explained. It didn't cost her a dime, as dear Grandfather knew it'd give at some point and prepared just for the occasion. However, the stables still needed some serious repairs, as did a greenhouse she'd never seen before. It was not far from a twelve stall guest Barn that had met the same fate and had also been rebuilt. The Horse trail leading to gorgeous overlooks next to the barn was visible from the Cabin. Her eyes wandered there, as her spirits lifted some at how little the overgrowth invaded. Recollections of her nine-year-old self resurfaced in her mind's eye, and she watched herself longingly walking hand in hand with her Grandfather on one of many cobblestone paths leading to and from. Back when his hair wasn't as gray and held streaks a brighter shade of magenta than her own. 

Distant Trails were leading into Cinderstap forest just fifteen minutes away, but she'd have plenty of time to reminisce of them later, or so she thought. Snapping out of it, Veuve glanced back at her home, which featured hardwood flooring, walls and, ceilings throughout. The edifice seemed to hold up sturdily after all these years, with little to no work needing to be done to it at all. The bedrooms had been re-carpeted, and the baths held new vinyl, according to Lewis. The ceilings fans in every room had been repaired as requested in the will. Most appliances, including the washer and dryer, were included in those priorities to which she was grateful. There was only so much she could afford at the moment to make it any more livable a place without draining her bank account dry. 

She thoroughly planned on bringing it back to the standard of living her Grandfather had cherished, but with her own feng shui. As eager as she was, though, she'd need to neglect the repairs the Cabin needed until she had more funds. Food and toiletries were top priorities, as were seeds and fertilizer for farming. On the bright side, the Cottage did still look every bit like a cozy log home that sat in a trail rider's paradise. "Twenty-three miles of horse trails out our back door, can you believe it?" Grandpa had once asked airily and rhetorically, with a faraway gleam in his eyes, looking out at the land from where they stood on the front porch. She had remained silent then, content with only searching for the spot he'd been eyeballing, too young to understand the sentimental moment the older man had created between them. 

The community she remembered was a beautiful wooded one with waterfalls and overlooks, which she frequented more than the clean kept and well-groomed by the land companies in the village Lewis oversaw and still does to this day, it would seem. In this community, well-known ownership included unlimited use of the trails closest to the Cindersnap stables, access to the community center, and a small park closer into town. 

She remembered swimming in the ocean and running around the beach with the other children, their faces and names she could no longer remember. One or two would usually accompany her to run up and down the docks, annoying Willy by scaring away his fish, and when scolded for behaving like brats, would she retaliate with a dry and sarcastic sense of humor meaner then it had become today. Sometimes Grandpa took her out to fish at the nearby lake with Willy, his best friend. A tall, athletic, and very handsome Irish Italian man with the darkest blue eyes she'd ever seen in a person. There was no heat in the scowls the fisherman would give Grandpa during their passive-aggressive banter, and when she jumped in, he'd often point out just how alike she and her Grandfather were under his breath. Overall, there were several memorable experiences here in the Valley, which made this livable wooden treasure just outside of it all too lovely of a home to not have someone enjoying it.

"You think I don't realize how bad that looks, Strawberry Shortcake?" Veuve wanted to ask the carpenter but refrained, fearing the woman would refuse to sell those enticing upgrades our dear Lewis mentioned out of spite. It was hard to tell, but the lumberjack must have had a stocky figure under all those bulky clothes, or so Veuve envisioned. The woman's shoes looked well-worn enough to prove her profession was genuine, but how good a carpenter she was had yet to be determined. Robin stood at five foot eight, just an inch or two taller than Veuve. The woman had a unique triangular jawline that would make one second guess her gender, but Robin's doe eyes were too soft to belong on a man's face. 

Lewis, a head taller than both of them, had straight, sharp aristocratic german facial features under the lines on his face but with the demeanor of a gentle old man despite his old age. The way he acted felt a bit staged, to her, just a feeling. He had left the Cabin with a cheery wave after assuring her he'd see to having U-haul company pick up the rented truck, personally, pointing out she had driven a long way to get here already and that she would need a good night's rest if she wanted to tackle cleaning up the property in the morning. 

She wasn't going to argue against that, even if she wanted to, but for sneaking glances at her breasts whenever he thought she wasn't looking. She'd get him later. 'That fake chit must have practiced each line in the mirror for hours.' She thought sourly.

Robin scowled at the back of his head, whether from how cross he had been with her about baiting Veuve or if she too noticed the ogling was uncertain. Robin hurried after him regardless, leaving Veuve to unpack and think about where she would even begin clearing the light overgrowth that took over most of the property.

The very moment the two were out of earshot, Veuve slipped off her ruined shoes, chucked them at the steps with a huff, where they bounced off the deck. She eyed the filth coating them with disdain, stomped at the moist soil with her right foot, ruining the feet of her soft dark pantyhose. "How the fuck am I going to do this?!" She shouted, reaching up to tug at her long, wavy magenta hair.

00000000000000000000000000000

During the first week of living on the farm, Veuve realized the promiscuous office clothes she had weren't suitable for farm work or living out in the countryside. So with great reluctance, the best she could do for the time being was turning most of her fancy jeans into daisy dukes, throw on the Prismatic bikini tops she held on to from her time as a stripper, slip on some tennis shoes, apply lots of sun-screen, bug repellant, and tie up her hair in a messy high ponytail when getting down to work. Maybe put on some hot pink lipstick if she went into town. She didn't apply much else to begin with, anyway. 

She spent a lot of time cleaning every inch of the dirty Cabins, applying fresh coats of Jamestown blue paint on the walls using the cans and brushes she'd dipped into her savings to buy from Robin, and of course, rearranging the modern white leather furniture from her old apartment around enough to where she was happy with how the rooms looked.

The stove was busted, but she managed to get an excellent portable cooker from a comely housewife wandering the isles in Pierre's shop who'd overheard her inquiry for such an item at the register. The petite willowy woman went so far as to throw in a small mini-fridge free of charge. The woman claimed to have used them in college and considered throwing them out but thought better of it, as they still worked. 

The woman's name was Jodi Bermingham, a delicate-looking dame with almond-shaped eyes, a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, a small button nose, and full heart-shaped lips. The type of person Veuve could not, for the life of her, find any way to insult or have a reason to act nasty towards. If Anything, she felt a little protective because nobody could act THAT nice and fool her.

So with great reluctance, she listened to Jodi's dreamy diarrhea of a story behind both items before graciously accepting them. Veuve could hear and see the raw, heartfelt emotion in Jodi's eyes when she spoke of the things. "It was our first refrigerator," She began softly, looking off into the distance with a fond smile. " He'd fill it with protein shakes, leaving hardly any room for the vegetables I brought home from the market every other day," She paused again, humor lacing her voice as she continued. "You'd think I scolded a puppy, with how guilty an expression he'd make or how far he would shrink into himself afterward." Jodi laughed, cupping her cheek. 

Veuve thought it was such a pretty laugh, one that sounded like soft bells, infectious even. But for all Jodi's comeliness, was an underlying hint of sadness in those dark violet eyes when she spoke of Kent, a subject Veuve decided she wouldn't pry into, and not just because she didn't care... Nothing about this woman angered her, which was a rare thing because almost everyone bothered her to some extent. So Jodi was ok in her books, a rare kind soul too good for this world. She owed the woman a boon in return for these sentimental items and hoped to repay it someday. 

The mini-fridge and portable stove weren't too heavy to carry back to the farm, even when she put the cooker inside the fridge to bring it back to the Cabin in one go. It took a while, but with a sink full of suds and a little elbow grease, she managed to wash years of grime off of it. She found the appliances worked just as Jodi said they did when plugging them in, smirking down at the weak bulb flickering inside the fridge. They proved useful, she found and should hold out just fine while saving for those precious kitchen upgrades.

The bathroom worked well enough, the plumbing in semi-good shape, but she needed to handle the knobs to the tub with care. The water was slightly yellow, but because of the rust taking its tole, it was just another thing to replace at some point. 

For whatever nerve-wracking reason, the thermostat could only make the house cold, so she considered herself lucky the white brick fireplace kept the Cabin warm enough at night with enough wood, but she'd need to fix the thermostat soon. She didn't want the couch or a cozy pile of pillows and blankets on the floor beside it to be her bed forever.

Jodi would often join Vueve once spotted in the mornings in the village to run some errands together, the dame having decided to act as her guide around town, to which Veuve was grateful for but hoped wouldn't become a habit, already feeling as if she burdened the woman enough.

They entered Pierre's Shop first, leaving the store with small bags of bottled cooking oil after having properly introduced herself this time to the store's owner. Pierre was a six foot two, well-groomed middle-aged man with honey brown eyes and light brown hair speckled with grey. A prominent pair of dark brown rectangular spectacles slid little ways down his straight nose, and Veuve had to admit this man had a nice chiseled jawline with a dimpled chin but dared not say it aloud. He welcomed her to the community just as warmly as Lewis had, but sounding a tad more genuine if not eager when the women paid for their items.

Veuve grumbled about having to buy overpriced stock on a tight budget once outside, to which Jodi agreed solemnly, accidentally revealing how hard she felt it was already trying to feed her kids using half of Kent's Military Stipend. The young mother froze for a moment, hand over her mouth, realizing she shared too much. To Jodi's surprise, Veuve did not question her about it or even look phased by the new information to her immense relief.

Jodi thought for sure, the farmer would get nosy. People tended to be in a small town, but instead, the scarlet-eyed girl asked in a bored tone if there were any cheaper alternatives to Pierre's. Jodi was quick to hop on a new topic, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward while leading the farmer to the JojaMart. 

As expected, the building looked exactly like every other JojaMart Veuve sometimes visited back in the City. In contrast to the other structures in the village, it stuck out like a sore thumb. "How did I miss this?" She asked rhetorically, and Jodi just giggled, walking inside. 

"As unhealthy as the food can be here, the prices are hard to beat! While most items like flour, sugar, and cooking oils aren't as high in quality then Pierre's, it's fair if you're really struggling." Veuve nodded as they both grabbed a basket and began wandering isles, the housewife going on to explain the beauty of coupons. Neither noticed a pink set of eyes watching Veuve warily from a distance. By the time the witch felt eyes on her, turning to scrutinize whoever it was, she could only see the end of black coattails from a suit glide into the men's room.

"Is something wrong?" Jodi asked, concerned, turning to follow the farmer's line of sight.

"Anything but," Veuve began with a smirk, burying her suspicion as to not worry her new acquaintance. "I saw a coupon dispenser for a fancy chicken broth, which is kinda rare for Joja, even back in the City. Wanna check it out?" It was a good thing there was actually a sale on broth, as the comely housewife's eyes lit up with a passion, heading straight in that direction. Veuve cast one more sharp glance towards the men's room, catching up to Jodi with a laugh. They left with a larger bag of groceries, but not before taking advantage of the coupon dispensers next to the self-checkout machines.

Their houses were in the same direction, so as they walked, Jodi talked enthusiastically about the chicken n dumplings recipe she didn't get to cook very often that she was going to make tomorrow for her boys. Veuve didn't have the heart to shush the woman. Instead, Veuve pretended to listen, nodding every now and then, silently counting every flowerbed they passed. When it was time to part ways, Jodi's parting words were not to be a stranger. This Kent guy was one lucky man. 

As a child, she recalled foraging with her father in the woods for mushrooms and other pieces of vegetation that he claimed held great arcane energy. It made navigating through the woods easier, and the spots they usually visited together haven't waned in recourses. She found leeks the size of her head at first, then delicious horse radishes, wild onion, or dandelion—an excellent spring haul. Cave vegetation grew all year round in shaded areas if you knew where to look, and she did. Her sense of direction never diminished when walking familiar paths around Cindersnap forest. It didn't take long to fill the big woven basket on her hip full of cave carrot and winter roots mostly. She decided to sell some of what she gathered at Pierre's, share with Jodi if the man was stingy (And boy was he!), and keep what little she needed for herself to cook with.

To sum up her first week in the Valley, most of it was spent deep in Cindersnap or meeting up with Jodi at the JoJaMart to use and collect coupons. The comely housewife was quickly becoming a new friend the more Veuve stopped by with some freshly foraged vegetables leftover from a day harvesting that wouldn't fit in the fridge.

On the seventh day, the young mother introduced Veuve to Vincent, Jodi's seven-year-old son, a short boy trying to catch a cricket by the house. Veuve had to admit the runt was adorable, taking after his mother entirely in the face. His violet eyes stared into her scarlet red inquisitively when he approached, telling her that most of the other adults seemed strange, but she was ok.

Veuve snorted, thanked him for saying so, ruffled his strawberry blond hair good-naturedly, and his mother sent him off with a chuckle. Not long after that, Jodi introduced her to Caroline, another housewife with the same gentle demeanor, with a diamond-shaped face, sky blue eyes, high cheekbones, an hourglass figure, super small waistline, and a rocking pair of tits that rivaled her own!

Both women had children Veuve didn't meet yet, but Caroline said she'd have a chance to speak with them soon enough, as the older children tended to spend a great deal of time at the Saloon on the weekends. 

Overall, in Veuve's opinion, the two mothers were very doting in nature and not hard to get along with. Caroline a far bit traditional and reserved for her tastes, but everyone had their own quirks. From the way the two mothers carried on about their loved ones, Veuve was sort of looking forward to meeting them. Almost.

Then, of course, there were the irksome four she mentally labeled as 'Jockstrap.' 'Unkempt Plonker.' 'That Blonde Bitch.' and 'Hot Wheels.'

Each did not give the best first impression her second week in the Valley, and she made sure to return their ugliness ten-fold. 

((000000000. Being edited just a smidge more from here on out..000000000000))

She had the misfortune of meeting that blonde bitch in the community park, who at first seemed friendly enough, inquiring about Veuve being the new farmer in town but with a fake cheerful attitude. The woman looked like Barbie, and Veuve was blown away by how beautiful women in the Valley seemed to be. However, Haley didn't give Veuve a chance to reply, asking in a bored tone if her tennis shoes were plastic. 

It took everything Veuve had not to jump the brat, gritting her teeth and forcing a smile. "Haha, I was just about to ask the same thing about your tits." Was Veuve's haughty retort, or more like a hiss, to which that blonde bitch had the gall to look offended, scoff, and briskly walk away, fuming.

In Veuve's defense, she wasn't about to let some off-brand bitch diss her Louis Vuitton tennis shoes and get away with it. She was already mad enough they were getting dirty from running around this dirt pile of a small town. 

The jockstrap wasn't as nasty, just really, really stupid. Alex mispronounced her name at least ten times during what could even count as conversation, but a brief acknowledgment of her existence as the 'farmer girl' and lots of arrogant boasting. She appreciated his butchered attempts to get her name right when corrected, but not enough that she wouldn't hum along and say, "Wow, LEXUS, that's SO interesting." 

It only took a few times for him to realize what she was doing, flushing angrily, and scowling at her, then down at his shoes. "You don't have to be such a jerk." He muttered, and at that moment, Veuve assumed the adorable idiot had to be fresh out of high school, what with the varsity Gridball jacket and Gridball she caught him tossing around by himself.

But when meeting his Grandmother, Evelyn, the sweet old lady told her the boy graduated two years ago.

Hot wheels had to have run over her foot five times whenever she went into town for something, to which she shouted profanity in response, but the old fart didn't even slow down to apologize. He just kept speeding along, grumbling something or another. He probably couldn't even hear her...Still, she gave him four chances! After the fifth toe flattening with his chair's wheel, he would forever be known as Hot wheels. 

She met Unkempt Plonker at the Saloon, having bought a beer, and made the mistake of trying to start a conversation with him in there after Gus. His immediate response was to fuck off, which she did after knocking the drink out of his hand with a straight face and leaving the Saloon without a word. 

Since then, she hasn't seen him. Probably because Gus told her that it might be best if she avoided the Saloon for a while, which she did, but despite how uncouth Veuve acted (Gus's words.), he did laugh when advising she stay away, adding that after the altercation, Shane had his mouth open long enough that Pam shouted across the bar at Unkempt Plonker, that he'd catch flies if he didn't shut his trap. 

Veuve decided she liked Gus and Pam.

**Author's Note:**

> Please padon the many edits, I have the flue so I'm kinda out of it, not Covid thank the lord. Should be well enough in a week.


End file.
